


The Firstlings of the Flock

by Daegaer



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angels, Brothers, Demons, Food, Fratricide, Gen, Sacrifice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-08-06
Updated: 2005-08-06
Packaged: 2020-06-09 22:44:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19485523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daegaer/pseuds/Daegaer
Summary: All Crowley wanted was a non-vegetarian meal in an urban setting. What could possibly go wrong?





	The Firstlings of the Flock

"I'm tired of the bucolic pleasures of the rural life," Crowley said irritably. He glared out over the peaceful scene of sheep safely grazing. Not that they could do other than safely graze, as it turned out, meat eating not yet having come into vogue for any of the beasts of the earth. Lions lay down with lambs all the time, and no one batted an eyelid.

"Well, you'll have to put up with the rural life for a while longer," Aziraphale said, closing his eyes and chewing on a blade of grass in a way that Crowley found _particularly_ infuriating. "Cities won't be invented for absolutely _ages_."

"Oh yeah?" Crowley said. He unfolded himself from the warm grass and struck a dramatic pose. "We'll just see about that."

He waited, but Aziraphale resolutely ignored him.

"Aren't you meant to say something about thwarting me?" Crowley said at last, a touch plaintively.

"Later," Aziraphale murmured sleepily. "After dinner, maybe. Hawwah said something about a nice spicy dhal."

"What I wouldn't give for a spot of lamb curry," Crowley muttered.

"Crowley! _Really_ ," Aziraphale said. "You got the memo, just like me. A vegetarian diet for the time being."

"Roast duck," Crowley said wistfully. "In a nice little restaurant in a nice big city. A nice clear broth and a succulent fish course to start, then some roast duck, or beef or lamb, I'm not picky. Lamb curry. Chicken satay. Pork with plenty of crackling. A really _big_ lobster with loads of butter melting its way all over --"

"And when meat _is_ allowed, we're meant to keep kosher, you know that," Aziraphale said in what Crowley considered a far too vindictive tone.

Crowley stared at the sheep hungrily, muttering his opinion of sticklers-for-the-rules angels under his breath.

"No one is going to speak Anglo-Saxon for _millennia_ ," Aziraphale sniffed. "But don't let me stop your little language drills. No doubt you people have some sort of accent you have to get over, or something."

Crowley stalked off. " _You people_ ," he muttered. Blessed angels. You looked at them, sitting with their knees modestly together, looking like their haloes wouldn't melt in hell-fire, and then they got so blessed _personal_ in their remarks. He hadn't the slightest inclination to sit around for another couple of hundred years with Aziraphale, looking at sheep and eating blessed _lentils_. He wasn't cut out for it. He'd be a city-demon, if he ever got the chance, he thought. And lentils gave him wind. What he needed was a - a _metropolis_ , he decided. A nice, big, _cosmopolitan metropolis_.

"Damn," he muttered. "I have to shift blessed languages even to _think_ of it."

His attention was caught by the whiff of roasting meat, and he narrowed his eyes as he watched Hawwah's baby boy standing before the altar. Only one Person got the non-vegetarian option and Crowley thought - he looked Up nervously - that it just wasn't _fair_. It'd be much fairer, he thought, if _everyone_ got the same sort of dinner. With that thought in mind, he sauntered over to Hawwah's older boy, who was watching his brother with a dull and furious look on his face.

"Hi," Crowley said. "I see Abel's sacrificing again. I don't remember your root vegetables going down so well."

"Urgh," Cain said, a remark Crowley eventually deciphered as "yeah" said through tightly clenched teeth.

"Listen," Crowley said, draping an arm round the fellow's shoulders. "I think we should organise a little -- rebellion. Either we all get a proper dinner or we all end up with your mother's lentils. Not that there's anything wrong with your mother's cooking," he added quickly as Cain glared at him.

"What do you mean, "rebellion"?" Cain said at last.

"Well, not so much a rebellion as a work-to-rule," Crowley said. "We don't go the extra mile, do any overtime, tug our forelocks when the gentry walk by, that sort of thing."

Cain looked at him with the deep non-comprehension of a man who'd never heard of trade unions, set working hours or the concept of there being other people in the world.

"What," he said, "are you talking about?"

"From now on," Crowley said, turning him around to face the altar again. "No barbecues. Vegetarian kebabs only, until we get the word that we can join in the consumption of protein. And we don't take any of that "there's protein in beans" rubbish. Beans don't agree with me. _Capiche?_ "

" . . . no," Cain said, as he'd also never heard of there being more than one language.

"Never mind," Crowley said. "You just go and convince your brother. Get him off alone, and tell him you don't want him sacrificing any more, that it's not fair. All right?"

"It's _not_ fair," Cain said, his eyes lighting up. "You wait here, I'm going to have a word with my dear brother."

He strode off.

"And let's think about cities!" Crowley called after him. "We don't want to live in the country for all eternity, do we?"

He smiled in satisfaction as Cain grabbed Abel's arm and began towing him towards the furthest field. Things would get moving now, Crowley thought cheerfully, rubbing his hands together. His stomach growled as the scent of Hawwah's cooking wafted over. He grinned and went to join Aziraphale and their hosts, the urge to get fed overcoming his desire for a culinary change. After all, it wasn't like one more meal of lentils was going to kill anyone.

Genesis 4:1-8, 17

And Adam knew Eve his wife; and she conceived, and bare Cain, and said, I have gotten a man from the LORD. And she again bare his brother Abel. And Abel was a keeper of sheep, but Cain was a tiller of the ground. And in process of time it came to pass, that Cain brought of the fruit of the ground an offering unto the LORD. And Abel, he also brought of the firstlings of his flock and of the fat thereof. And the LORD had respect unto Abel and to his offering: But unto Cain and to his offering he had not respect. And Cain was very wroth, and his countenance fell.  
And the LORD said unto Cain, Why art thou wroth? and why is thy countenance fallen? If thou doest well, shalt thou not be accepted? and if thou doest not well, sin lieth at the door. And unto thee shall be his desire, and thou shalt rule over him.  
And Cain talked with Abel his brother: and it came to pass, when they were in the field, that Cain rose up against Abel his brother, and slew him.

And Cain knew his wife; and she conceived, and bare Enoch: and he builded a city, and called the name of the city, after the name of his son, Enoch.


End file.
